


Drowning

by chriek



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fictober 2018, M/M, no dialog, soft smut, spoilers through chapter 85
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chriek/pseuds/chriek
Summary: They weren't supposed to fuck. It complicated things.





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Just some soft smut with Jean struggling on the inside. As it says in the tags, this fic includes spoilers through chapter 85.
> 
> Written for Fictober 2018 Day 4: Reincarnation.

They weren't supposed to fuck. It complicated things. But few vices seemed to rid their bodies of the terror as their minds unwillingly playing and replayed scenes of attack, death, and bloodshed. Even alcohol didn't always blur enough of what they remembered: Titan teeth biting into a comrade's stomach or tearing another squad member in two before popping both pieces into their grotesque mouths. So when nothing else worked to erase or dull the memories, they fucked. Armin had suggested it. Jean wanted a distraction. Maybe these other psychos in the Survey Corps could keep going after watching so many people dying gruesomely around them but Jean was worn out and Armin was still alive and offering to help him forget for a while. It didn't matter anymore—it didn't matter that it was Armin and not Mikasa, it didn't matter that neither of them really knew what they were doing. Jean hardly even remembered their first time, just warmth and the sound of Armin annoyingly asking him if he was sure he was okay.

And even though it didn't matter, after a few times of touching each other, Armin got better at moving his hand on Jean and even offered to use his mouth. They rarely had that long and many instances were rushed with hushed sounds and an occasional moan that culminated in a gasped orgasm. Slowly, Armin's scent became familiar to Jean so that even standing near him could be relaxing. It at least reminded Jean that he was still alive. That they both were.

Which is why when Armin had said he'd had a plan to bring down the Colossal Titan, Jean privately kept that warmth in his mind as his own group split to tackle the Armored one. In Armin there was a reason to keep on going, a way to connect and breathe after the fight if they both made it out alive. But even that latter thought ("if they both made it out alive") started to become an outcome Jean took for granted. Armin was smart; he'd shown that again and again. Armin's tactical powers were stronger than most and he wasn't unnecessarily reckless (beyond the level any of them could help being). He'd make it out. And Eren had been part of the plan—idiot Eren, who always took stupid risks to save everyone he could.

So when they regrouped he was not expecting to see Armin barely breathing and looking more like an overcooked sausage than a human anymore. Even if he survived, Jean was sure the scent he'd gotten used to would change and that the way they'd lost themselves in each other would be harder, if not impossible, for Armin to manage. He knew already: the Titan injection would go to Erwin. Erwin would become the Colossal Titan, not Armin. It made sense. This is how things were.  Something stilled in Jean's chest as he took one last look at the still sizzling form of what had been awkwardness, timidity, intelligence, but also fierceness. Why had Armin even picked him? Jean had never asked. After the first few times they'd spent together, he'd just been glad to have someone he could drown with in an attempt to outrun the reality around them. But now.... Jean felt hollow. This time he was drowning alone, not in heat or in cold but in nothingness. He shifted his glance away from Armin's dying body and followed the others to the roof of a house nearby as they waited for Levi to inject Erwin and leave him to eat Bertholdt.

And then Levi chose Armin to save, not Erwin. Jean watched. Bertholdt screamed for mercy in Armin's jaws; they all watched.

It didn't take long for Armin to regenerate, longer to regain consciousness. The whole time, everything sounded far away to Jean. He was still drowning on his own, hearing and seeing but feeling none of it. He'd tasted the loss he'd been so desperately outrunning. It burned temperature-less in his mind in a way that weighed him down, a way he wanted to forget—but there was no way to do so, with the source of forgetting also being the source of remembering now.

For a few days nothing happened between them. Beyond information gathering and tactics, there was no time for any one-on-ones. Armin was also working hard at mastering his new abilities; perhaps it had been the exhaustion or the overwhelm of that which had finally made him approach Jean.

And when he did, Jean hesitated.

There was a burdened and apologetic look on Armin's face. He told Jean to close his eyes.  Armin took his time as he traced his palms across Jean's chest, neck, arms, and finally his face. They hadn't kissed much before and Armin was especially chaste now: slow, soft kisses to the lips, then Jean's cheeks, and finally he breathed out an apology against Jean's ear. Without noticing that he was even doing it, Jean reached for Armin, drawing him closer by the hip. Jean's eyes were still closed and he nuzzled against Armin's face as he tried to locate Armin's mouth by feel. Once he found it, he dove in hungrily.

It was a shame that they hadn't kissed much before, a shame that he hadn't gotten to know Armin's mouth better. Armin's kissing was clumsy at first but as Jean pressed his tongue urgently inside, Armin reciprocated and Jean's hand at his waist tightened in response. The hollow feeling of burned awake like fire as Armin's body pressed against him, that reminder of _alive, we're alive_ flooding his sensations once more. Clothes rushed off of each other in quick pulls and drags. Armin's mouth was everywhere and Jean touched as much as he could. He lost himself in thrusting into Armin's mouth and spread his legs apart to Armin's gently prying fingers, continuing on like that until he came. Both were breathing heavily and Armin shyly asked him to turn around before sliding up against him, then inside him. Jean pushed back against the new sensation, willing to take anything—Armin breathed in his ear, pumping and holding Jean's hips tightly in place until soon he'd climaxed, pouring himself inside, wet.

Neither cleaned up well but they tried. Armin looked at him hopefully and Jean felt himself blush stupidly. He pushed Armin's curious face away and said he was fine. Armin thanked him and Jean told him how embarrassing he was and to stop talking.

Each time they were on the battlefield again after that, as Jean saw Armin's human form change into the Colossal Titan over and over, that memory of the numb nothingness of loss spoke into his chest. Next time they might die. Next raid, next attack, next plan. There was no way to be sure, and no way to stop it. The warm moments, the sweat and the sounds of Armin's pleasure as their bodies met and connected, were not the shield they once were against Jean's terror. But he continued reaching out desperately to quell the fear even for a short while, with Armin's hand reaching back just the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I did here but I hope it was enjoyable.


End file.
